


I Don't Know Why

by jackson1523



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, alright let’s see what’s going on in this train wreck, also there’s an over-exaggeration of gay players in the nhl, but like...none of us come here expecting a realistic approach, hm, i wish i could repent but sadly im already going to hell so! might as well have a blast on my way, jack eichel is the slut he was truly meant to be and i think that’s beautiful, one detailed threesome and one alluded threesome, there’s a few Actual Sex Scenes and a lot of alluded ones, this fics a fucking wreck im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 02:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14322951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackson1523/pseuds/jackson1523
Summary: The All-Star Weekend crack!fic literally no one wanted.





	I Don't Know Why

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is a fic I never thought I'd write ever. I don't remember how the hell this came up, but somehow we got onto this topic and I jokingly said "haha what if jack was a slut and tyler got jealous that jack stole his title" and then I was told to write it and here I am. Sorry the hate sex isn't really that hateful.  
> Disclaimer: if you reached this fic from Googling yourself or someone you know, please exit out now. For both your sanity and my dignity.  
> Title from the Imagine Dragons song of the same name, and also my reasoning behind writing this.

When Jack was drafted back in 2015, he didn't exactly expect playing in the NHL also meant _sleeping around_ the NHL. But that's what ended up happening.

First, it started with McDavid. And sure, maybe it's cliche or whatever, but Jack doesn't _hate_ him...totally. It was just...the tension between them leading up to the draft kept building and building and next thing Jack knows, he's being pushed into a utility closet at BB &T Arena, his Sabres jersey rucked up and a clammy hand being shoved into his pants. And then his hand grasping for Connor's cock in retaliation. It was short and rough, and they were done within five minutes without so much as kissing (though Connor almost left what would have been a monster hickey on Jack's neck if he hadn't come to his sense in time). Maybe that says something about Jack's stamina. Maybe it says something about how good Connor is in the sack. Jack tries not to think about it.

And then he moved on to Noah. Despite playing for rival schools, Jack and Noah became best friends, and it was Noah that Jack went to in his post-Connor panic.

"Noah," Jack said in a hushed tone over the phone later that night, "What the fuck do I do?"

"Well, the first thing you have to do is be grateful you're in different divisions so you only have to see him twice a year."

"You're not helping."

The first time that the Hurricanes visited Buffalo, Jack wasn't expecting to open Matt's front door to see Noah standing on the front stoop, his hands buried deep in his pockets (mostly because Jack didn't know Noah knew Matt's address). He also wasn't expecting to be herded up the stairs and into his room, and to have Noah's face against his before he could even blink.

"Noah, what?" Jack said between desperate, messy kisses.

"I'm going through a dry spell," Noah gasped out. "Dude, please."

"I didn't know you were into guys," Jack said as he slipped his hands underneath Noah's shirt to pull it off.

"I didn't know _you_ were into guys until I got a call after you slept with one." Noah ripped Jack's shirt off and whipped it into the corner.

"Jesus," Jack gasped as Noah started leaving light, sucking kisses down his neck.

"Look. I'm not looking for a relationship or anything, alright? Just...no strings attached. Bros helping bros."

"Yeah, alright," Jack said as he pushed his pants off.

This time was significantly better, mostly because this time they a) were not in a utility closet, b) had actual lube and not spit, and c) were spread out on a bed. Noah also knew what he was doing, because Jack doesn't remember the last time a guy made him come that hard. Afterwards, they found themselves lying next to each other on Jack's bed, Noah clutching one of Jack's fifteen throw pillows to his chest.

"How long have you liked guys?" Jack asked, still panting a bit.

"High school."

"Seriously?"

"Hell yeah bro. I know what the fuck is going on."

"Can this be a regular thing?

"I don't know how regular we can exactly be…"

"Fuck you, you know what I mean."

"Sure. Next time you're in Raleigh hit me up."

They bumped fists, and Noah got up to use the bathroom. Once he got back, Jack escorted him downstairs, and was shocked to see Matt and Alicia sitting on the couch together watching the news.

"Hey boys," Alicia said warmly, beaming at them over the back of the couch. "Have fun?" Jack looked over to Matt to see him with an eyebrow raised, and fuck, they're definitely going to be talking about this later.

"Yeah," Noah said easily. "Just catching up with Jack before tomorrow's game. We're just heading out to dinner, right?"

Jack shook his stupor out of his head. "Yeah. Chef's right?" Noah nodded. Jack quickly ducked them out the door. "I didn't realize we were getting dinner," Jack said as they headed out towards his car.

"I figured you didn't want to have the talk with Matt."

"You are the best friend _ever_."

***

Then came Larkin. And Johnny Hockey.

Jack's not exactly sure how he ended up here, but fucking Dylan's mouth in his Toronto hotel room is a place he never thought he would get to. He looks up from where he's gripping Dylan's hair to look Johnny in the eyes as he's fucking Dylan into the mattress and...Jack's honestly drawn a blank as to _how_ he fucking _ended up in this position_.

"You good, Dyl?" Johnny pants out, a sweaty curl flopping over his forehead. Dylan slowly uncurls his hand from the bedsheets and gives a thumbs up. Johnny nods slowly, a little dumb-looking, and he keeps going. Jack looks up and they make eye contact, and wow, this is something he didn't know he ever wanted to do.

"How you holdin' up, Eichs?" Johnny grins as he runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"Could be worse," Jack says as he grins back. He hears Dylan grunt, and then he does something with his tongue that sends a delicious lick of heat up Jack's spine. He has to stop for a second, because suddenly his orgasm is _right there_. "Holy _shit_."

It's another few minutes before Jack can't hold back any longer. "Dylan, I'm gonna fuckin'...you need me to pull out?" Dylan pats at his leg, so Jack pulls his dick out. Dylan immediately reaches up and starts tonguing along the bottom vein and does something with his fingers that has Jack shooting off across his abs. He makes sudden eye contact with Johnny, whose eyes bug out, and he suddenly comes with a grunt.

Dylan's lying there, red-faced and hard as a rock, his chest rocketing up and down. He traces his hand down through Jack's come, and uses it as lube to jerk himself off. Once he comes too, the three of them collapse in a sweaty pile among the ruined sheets.

"Well fuck, boys," Dylan breathes out, his voice wrecked.

"I didn't know you were into that kind of kinky shit, Dylan," Johnny says, propping himself up on his elbow and grinning.

Dylan shrugs. "Gonna be honest, I didn't either." He twists his wrist to check the time. "We have to be downstairs in twenty for dinner but I don't think I can move."

The other two boys groan in agreement. "Can we weasel out of it?" Johnny whines.

"No, I don't think so," Jack says, and with that, he pushes himself up. "I'm taking a shower, I'm not about to sit with my teammates reeking of sex." Johnny and Dylan nod in agreement, and they all go their separate ways to shower.

***

Slowly but surely, over the next few months, Jack finds himself with some extra time due to his ankle injury, and therefore finds himself fucking his way through the league. He and Hanny sleep together when they play each other, and somehow Jack finds himself in Zach's Werenski’s bed while his roommate is out. He stumbles back to his and Sam's hotel room, where Sam looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raised.

"Jack, where the hell were you?"

"Hm?" Jack's still sex-stupid.

"Were you fucking someone _again?_ "

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

Sam stares blankly at him for a moment, before he lets out a sigh. "You're going to kill me, Jack. I swear. Are you at least being safe? Using condoms?"

Jack rolls his eyes so hard he's amazed they don't fall right out of his head. " _Yes,_ of course I'm using condoms, Mom."

Sam rolls his eyes back, but turns his attention to his phone. Which gives Jack the cover he needs to covertly shift; turns out, dicks in one's ass makes for slight discomfort.

***

Over the next year, Jack fucks his way around the league: he and Auston exchange sloppy handies behind a Toronto bar; he has a threesome with Ovechkin and Backstrom (which he will never, ever talk about to anyone ever, no matter how much vodka Evander, Sam, and Jake pour down his throat); Laine bends him over a countertop in KeyBank Center; and Boeser gives really good blowjobs, among many others. The point is, by halfway through his third year in the league, Jack's had sex with at least one guy on 14 teams. 

It's a week before the All-Star break, and Jack's just woken up when he sees that he received a text from a Dallas area code.

 _Text from Unknown Number_  
heard uve been sleeping around...trying to take my title?

 _Text from Me_  
who tf is this

 _Text from Unknown Number_  
doesnt matter, just know that i know what ur up to

Great, his day's starting out with vaguely ominous texts from a fucking rando. Jack buries his phone under his pillow and rolls over to go back to sleep, because _fuck that._

Once he heads off to the All-Star Weekend, he's greeted by at least ten people he's slept with (or at least made out with). Which should be awkward, but Jack also knows that they all sort of...sleep around together? It's a little weird, but what choice do they have?

Jack's talking to Zach, Noah, and Auston, and making plans to attend the concert that night, when Jack feels eyes on his back. He checks out of the conversation for a minute to turn around, and he catches Tyler fucking Seguin boring holes in his back as Klingberg chatters on next to him. They make brief eye contact, before Tyler looks away, his gaze stormy.

 _Weird_ , Jack thinks, before turning back around.

"Eyeing up another notch?" Auston mutters under his breath, nudging Jack. Jack snorts and shoves him.

"What, gettin' jealous Matthews?"

That night, after the concert, they all decide to head out to a local club that was recommended to them by the NHL. The air is thick, the drinks are strong, and soon, Jack finds himself drunk and sweaty. He and Zach are jokingly grinding on the dance floor, while Noah and Auston look on, Auston with his phone out. Zach bends over and really starts to go at it on Jack's crotch, and Jack throws his head back with a bark of laughter.

The song changes to something slower, and Jack notices that he really has to piss. He heads into the bathroom and takes his dick out to finally pee, and while he's in the middle of that, the door swings open, and someone walks in. Jack follows the bro code and doesn't look up at whoever just walked in, until suddenly--

"Ah, so that must help with the sleeping around, then," says Tyler fucking Seguin.

Jack's eyes widen in shock as he whips his head around. "Why the hell are you staring at my dick? I'm pissing, man."

Instead of peeing, or actually doing something related to using the bathroom, Tyler just crosses his arms and leans against the wall. "I was wondering how the hell someone like you was taking over my title of the league slut."

Jack finishes peeing and tucks his dick away. He flushes, and heads to to the sink to wash his hands. "I didn't even realize there was a title to take?"

"I spent years building up that reputation, and it's going to be taken away by some kid."

"What's your fucking problem, man? Why do you care so much?" Jack finishes washing his hands and looks around for some paper towels.

"Because I worked my ass off to gain that reputation--"

"I bet you did," Jack sneers, finally finding the paper towels and grabbing a few.

"Fuck you."

"You fucking wish."

They seem to have reached an impasse. Tyler narrows his eyes, and well, Jack's not one to back down from a challenge, so he stares Tyler down while drying his hands. He sees Tyler's eyes flicker down towards the rest of his body, and Jack decides to do the same.

He saw the Body Issue pictures. Of course he did. Everyone did. Jack still isn't sure how, but about a month after it dropped he was able to figure out a way to get his hands on the issue, and boy did he get full use out of it. Long story short, he went through his almost full bottle of lotion in about a month and a half. So yeah, Jack knows what's under those clothes.

"See something you like?" Jack asks; he didn't start this, but he sure as hell will finish it.

Tyler rolls his eyes. "You fucking wish," he repeats back.

"Whatever. Stop being so fucking weird." Jack chucks the paper towels into the garbage, and goes to head out the door, before his shoulder is jerked back, and suddenly Tyler is shoving his tongue into his mouth.

Jack shoves Tyler off. "What the fuck?!"

Tyler wipes his mouth. "Are you just gonna say shit, or are you gonna act on it?"

They stand facing each other in the bathroom, both of them breathing deeply, before the door behind them is pushed open. They both whirl around to see Stamkos frozen in the doorway. "Am I…?" He hesitates, his hands awkwardly gesturing between them.

"No," Jack says firmly, glaring at Tyler before pushing past Stamkos. He heads back to the rest of the guys, and Noah raises his eyebrows.

"What happened in there?"

"Nothing." Jack heads up the bar and orders them a round of tequila shots.

***

The club makes last call, and the guys all head outside to try and find their Uber. "Do you see it?" Auston asks, craning his head.

"No. It's a blue Toyota Camry, but that's all I got," Noah says, looking down at his phone.

Jack is also looking around when a harsh tug on his arm sends him stumbling down an alley. "What the--" He's suddenly trapped between a wall and Tyler Seguin again. "Dude, what is your fucking problem?"

"I think we have some unfinished business from earlier, and if it's all the same to you, I'd like to pick up where we left off."

Jack is instinctual. Quick-footed. He has to be, if he wants to excel in the NHL. Which means that he doesn't even think, just lunges forward and plants his lips against Tyler's. He can feel Tyler stiffen under him for a split second, before pulling back. "Not here," he says, and grabs Jack above the elbow before tugging him further down the alley.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the hotel."

"But you didn't even buy me dinner."

"You can eat my ass, how about that?" Tyler says sarcastically as he drags Jack out the other end of the alley into a deserted loading bay.

"Okay."

Tyler stops dead. "Wait. Seriously?"

Jack shrugs. "I'm up for it if you are."

Jack can see Tyler blush, and he looks around quickly before smacking a frantic kiss on Jack's lips. "Wow, okay, maybe you also being a slut isn't a bad thing. Let's go." They make their way back around to the main street, and Jack spots Noah, Auston, and Zach all grouped together. Noah looks up, and spots Jack across the crowd. Noah's gaze flicks over to Tyler, and then back, and Jack shrugs. Noah grins, and nods, before turning his gaze back down.

Tyler had already called an Uber, it seems, because they almost immediately climb into one. The car pulls away, and Tyler keeps to his side of the car. He keeps sending Jack little glances, and whenever they caught each other's gaze, Tyler would wet his bottom lip with his tongue. Jack's getting hard in his jeans, and he keeps wondering what someone as experienced as Tyler's like in the sack.

After what felt like hours, the Uber pulls up to their hotel. They thank her, and she nods silently. Tyler leads Jack up to his room, and as soon as the door slams shut, Tyler's lunging at Jack's lips. The exchange is messy, filled with angry, biting kisses.

And honestly, who does Tyler think he is, trying to push Jack around? Jack decided to really use his muscles, and he shoves Tyler against the wall and holds him there. Tyler struggles, clearly not wanting to give up control.

" _Hold still_ ," Jack says, ducking his head to lick under Tyler's ear.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do." Tyler goes limp as Jack makes contact with his skin.

Jack tightens his grip on Tyler's wrists, and he hears Tyler whimper, and wow, okay, he didn't know how hot that would be but here he is. "You fucking like that?"

Tyler responds with thunking his head back against the wall and rutting against Jack's thigh. "Don't--Come on, man, _fuck_."

Jack backs off, and looks at Tyler, who's flushed, and wow, Jack wants to follow that stupid flush down. Tyler places a hand on Jack's chest and backs him into the room. Tyler starts stripping his clothes off. "Are you gonna join me or just stand there like an idiot?"

Jack hastens to start taking his clothes off, and soon, they're both standing there across the room from each other, naked and hard, and neither of them are moving. "Do I have to get you on the bed myself? I would have figured you'd know the way."

"You're a fucking asshole, I don't even know why the fuck I'm doing this," Tyler spits at him, tossing a bottle of lube and a condom at him that he picked up somewhere. Tyler climbs on the bed, and sits against the pillows. "I'm waiting."

Jack rolls his eyes. "You're a fucking drama queen." He gets on the bed, places the lube and condom on the other side of the bed, and climbs over Tyler. He settles his hips between Tyler's legs, and his hips jerk at his cock comes into contact with Tyler's. He feels rather than sees Tyler dig his fingers into his back. "You think _I'm_ a slut?"

"I never said I wasn't," Tyler gasps, before biting a stinging kiss onto Jack's lips. "But prove me wrong, big boy. Show me what you got." Okay, wow, so Jack didn't know he was turned on by being called "big boy," but from what he's heard, you learn something new every day. They continue their grinding rhythm for what feels like a while, and soon Jack can feel his orgasm starting to creep up on him.

He pulls away, and leans over to grab the lube. He turns back to Tyler, who's lying demurely on the bed, looking up at Jack through his eyelashes. "Knock it off." Tyler's face breaks, and he rolls his eyes with a huff. "I'll fuck you, _relax._ "

"You sure are taking your time, then." Tyler's started to lazily stroke himself. "Look, you're making me soft."

"Don't look soft to me," Jack says off-handedly while he opens the lube and coats his fingers. "Is this how you want it?"

"If I wanted it another way I would have moved right now, let's _go_ ," Tyler growls. Fine. Jack can play this game too.

Jack doesn't hesitate, he finds Tyler's hole with his finger, and swiftly pushes his finger in as far as it'll go. Tyler gasps under him, his eyes shutting. Jack leaves his finger there for a minute, and once Tyler starts wriggling around, Jack starts to thrust. He doesn't start gunning for his prostate immediately, he mostly focuses on getting the area wet and loose.

Tyler lifts a leg where they're spread around Jack and kicks him in the back of the thigh. "Ow! What the hell?"

"Hurry it up, man, I'm bored."

"Bored?" Jack may be many things, but _boring_ isn't one of them.

"I think we've established I'm not a blushing virgin, so can we hurry this along and get to the part where you stick- _oh!_ "

Jack cuts him off by adding a second finger roughly, and crooking his fingers to finally press against Tyler's prostate. He really starts fingerbanging Tyler then, roughly alternating between scissoring his fingers and curling his fingers upwards. Under him, Tyler has his head thrown back, his neck bared, and his hands are clutching at his pillow.

"More?" Jack asks, because yeah Tyler's annoying, but they still have a whole weekend of hockey to play; Jack can't break him.

"I--fuck--I think maybe a third, yeah," Tyler gasps out between deep heaving breaths. So Jack complies, and Tyler lets out a mewl as he rolls his hips down onto Jack's hand. "Just like that, yeah."

Jack really focuses on opening Tyler up now, and once he thinks that Tyler's not getting any looser, he pulls his hand out. Tyler grits his teeth at the loss, and Jack leans over to clean his hand on a tissue. He grabs the condom and tears it open and he rolls it down his cock slowly.

"Let's _go_ ," Tyler growls, and Jack finally gets around to slowly guiding his hips towards Tyler's hole. After a few false starts, Jack finally slips in, and the tight, wet heat of Tyler envelops the head. Tyler lets out a wanton moan, and Jack feels a zing of heat race up and down his spine.

"Good God, you're tight."

"Shut the fuck up." Jack starts to get into a rhythm, and Tyler stops him with a hand on his chest. He reaches over, and grabs the lube bottle. He sits up a bit, and drizzles some lube onto the part of Jack's dick that's exposed. He settles back in satisfaction. "You're good." Jack starts to thrust again, and Tyler's fingernails start to curl into Jack's back. "Harder," Tyler whispers, and well.

Jack does like a good challenge.

In the large amount of sex that's Jack's had, he's never thrusted as hard as he could. But right now, he thinks that he may have to call that now false, because Jack is putting his whole body into these thrusts. Tyler is now _clawing_ at his back, and Jack is trying his best to stay consistent. Suddenly, Tyler places a hand on his shoulder and pushes. Jack goes with it, and rolls onto his back. Tyler clambers around, and mounts Jack. He sits on Jack's dick carefully. "Got tired of waiting."

And he's off, rolling his hips in a crazy rhythm. All Jack can do is come along for the ride. He places his hands on Tyler's hips, and slowly runs his hands up and down his thighs. All Jack can focus on is the tight heat and the motion of Tyler on top of him. Tyler's letting out a stream of moans, one hand fisting his dick and the other scratching down Jack's chest. Without warning, Jack is spurting off into the condom, Tyler still writhing around on top of him. As Jack comes down, he watches Tyler desperately try to come before the feeling gets overwhelming. Jack reaches a hand up and pinches Tyler's nipple, and suddenly Tyler is coming, jizz streaking Jack's chest and neck. Jack gets his hand around Tyler's dick too, and strokes him through it.

Tyler slides off of Jack's dick, and lands on his side in a lump. Jack reaches down and takes the condom off, ties it off, and throws it in the direction of the garbage.

"So, you can finally check Buffalo off your list," Jack pants.

"I checked Buffalo off years ago, bro.”

”Wait, what the fuck? Who?!”

Tyler throws his washcloth in the sink. "Look. I'm not gonna talk for him. Now get the hell out of my room." Tyler brushes past Jack, and gets settled in his blankets. Jack dresses, mind still whirring. He leaves Tyler's room in a daze.

When Jack heads downstairs the next morning, he spots Tyler slumped at a table, picking at his eggs. Jack sits down with him. "How are you feeling?"

"You weren't _that_ good," Tyler says plainly, eyes flicking up to Jack tiredly. "But I'm fine."

"Good." They sit awkwardly for a moment, before Jack slaps the tabletop with his hands, and stands to leave. Before he can, Tyler takes his wrist.

"I'm still the league slut. Stop trying to take my title, asshole."

**Author's Note:**

> That was that. I hope you enjoyed it! I’m so sorry!


End file.
